


Sweet Taste of Summer

by Exaggerated_Specificity



Category: Supernatural
Genre: Blow Jobs, Come Swallowing, Consensual Underage Sex, Dirty Talk, Lolita Sammy, Lollipops, M/M, Oral Fixation, Oral Sex, Sibling Incest, Underage Sex
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-03-27
Updated: 2016-03-27
Packaged: 2018-05-29 04:11:38
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Underage
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,243
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/6358816
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Exaggerated_Specificity/pseuds/Exaggerated_Specificity
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Written for SPN Masquerade Spring 2016. The prompt was: "<i>Sam’s got a lollipop in his mouth and Dean’s got a hard-on. Take it wherever it needs to go</i>."</p><p>What's on the tin. The boys are underage. Ages unspecified.</p><div class="center">
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            </blockquote>





	Sweet Taste of Summer

**Author's Note:**

  * For [saltandbyrne](https://archiveofourown.org/users/saltandbyrne/gifts).



> Original SPN Masquerade post [HERE](http://spn-masquerade.livejournal.com/7665.html?thread=2690289#t2690289). Tumblr post [HERE](http://exaggeratedspecificity.tumblr.com/post/141761064608/sweet-taste-of-summer-by-exaggeratedspecificity).

Sam’s good at looking innocent enough. Oversized hand-me-downs make his slight tween boy frame look even younger than he really is. Almond-shaped, kaleidoscope eyes with those long, dark lashes batting dreamily like he doesn’t have his holey-socked foot tucked up underneath Dean’s heavy balls. His lips are pink as the heart on that ridiculous Lisa Frank Trapper Keeper he picked up somewhere two middle schools ago. His soft little tongue sweeps out over the top of the watermelon dum-dum the waitress left with their check, his eyes on the sky outside as it fades from blue to violet. 

“Let’s go,” Dad says gruffly, climbing out of the booth he’s sharing with Sam. “I gotta hit the road if I’m gonna make it to Bobby’s by morning.” 

He’d paid their shitty motel through the following Tuesday and had given Dean strict orders to stay put. He had a pile of research for Dean to pick through and a whole case of empty shotgun shells for Sam to fill with rock salt waiting for them. The worst kind of torture for two growing boys if they hadn’t been fucking like rabbits since Dean knew what his dick was for. 

Sam could’ve called shotgun, he got to the car first, but instead he hops in the backseat with an exaggerated yawn, sprawling out on the backseat with his t-shirt hiked up like a truck stop hooker. It was a sticky summer night so Dad probably wouldn’t think twice about it, even if it made Dean’s forehead bead up with sweat and his balls ache when he looked back at his kid brother in the rearview. 

Sam was still nursing that sucker, too. Spinning the stick with the smoothed out, candy dome pressed into the pucker of his lips, his eyes locked on Dean’s reflection. Sam’s lips looked as pretty, puffy-pink as his asshole had after Dean fucked him for the first time. Dean licks his own lips, swallowing hard as the Impala lurches onto the highway. 

Back at their room John complains about needing a shower. Dean catches his frustrated groan before it slips off his tongue, thanking the sweet baby Jesus when Dad relents. There’s no time, he needs to get on the road. 

He kisses his youngest goodbye on the forehead and squeezes Dean’s shoulder firmly, making solid eye contact, reminding him he’s the man of the house while John’s out hunting. God, if he only knew. 

“Little fucking tease,” Dean growls, pressing Sam up against the back of the flimsy motel door before John even starts the car. The sucker’s gone now, the stick forgotten somewhere on the threadbare carpet, but Dean chases the summer-sweet flavor of it into his brother’s mouth, licking it off the back of his tongue. Sammy whimpers, clutching at Dean’s flannel while he gets tongue-fucked by his big brother. 

“Gonna get us caught one of these days,” Dean says, as if it doesn’t make him diamond hard to push the limits of what they’re able to get away with. Every gas station bathroom, every supercenter supply run, was a chance to sin. Even Dad sawing logs in the bed next to theirs was a prime opportunity to make Sam’s baby dick ruin another pair of tighty-whities. 

Sam sinks to his knees right there, on the cracking linoleum landing of room 34, his skinny little fingers skating over the stiffy Dean’s had for the better part of an hour. 

“Wanna suck you,” Sammy sighs, like it’s not blatantly obvious. He’s licking his lips like a thirsty man in the desert, like Dean’s dick is a fucking oasis for him to sate the thirst he’s had as long as Dean can remember. Dean plants his palm against the door, helping Sam shove his jeans and boxers down over the jut of his hip bones. He tangles his other hand in Sam’s silky, brown locks, hauling him forward. He’s ready to unapologetically fuck the candy-pink stains off of Sam’s tongue. 

“Get your hand around me, Sammy. Squeeze hard,” Dean huffs. His voice is getting deeper, sounding more and more like Dad every day. Good thing Sam always took orders from Dean a million times better than he did for John. 

Sam’s hand still feels so small, straining to get all the way around Dean’s shaft, his soft little thumb nestled up under Dean’s balls where his toes had been teasing back at the diner. His breath is sticky-hot, ghosting over the leaking head of Dean’s cock, and a whiff of watermelon makes it up into Dean’s nostrils, making him shudder a little as he watches Sam purse his lips. 

He kisses the head of Dean’s cock soft and sweet, looking up at his big bro and fluttering those lashes, his cheeks pink as that fucking sucker, flushed with arousal and the stagnant heat of their room. They hadn’t even bothered to turn on the AC yet. 

Sam’s mouth is velveteen heaven and Dean can’t keep his eyes open as Sammy’s lips stretch around his girth, slide down the shaft like the professional cocksucker he is. Dean’s ready to come but he’s going to make it count. He didn’t sit through dinner rock hard just to two-pump dump into Sam’s narrow throat. 

“Take it all the way, Sam. Lemme hear you choke on it.”

Sam groans around him, the vibration making Dean’s hand strain and shake where it’s planted beneath the foggy peep hole. Sam doesn’t need to be asked twice. The angle isn’t great but he gets Dean’s prick down his throat like the quick study he’s always been, pressing the head into the sweet cushion of his tonsils. 

Dean looks down when Sam’s throat makes that sound. That strangled, wet, gurgle that’s always followed by a tear and a sniffle. Kryptonite. 

“Good boy. Jesus, fuck, Sam.” 

Dean’s other hand plants against the door too, his knees quaking as he tries to hold back the load that’s been brewing in his balls all day. Sam flushes under the praise, his eyes slipping shut as he pushes down that extra quarter inch that has Dean seeing stars. The electric pulse of his orgasm zings up his spine, making his balls tighten and twitch, his stomach flutter like he’s on a rollercoaster. 

Sam backs off a little then, his hand loosening its grip, and his thumb rubbing over Dean’s nuts to expertly milk him dry. Sammy groans as Dean coats his tongue, like it tastes better than any lollipop, his hands braced on Dean’s hips as he gulps down everything his big brother has to give. 

“God you’re fuckin’ good at that,” Dean sighs dreamily. Sam’s still mouthing at him, still rubbing his balls, hungry for every last drop. 

Sam pulls off, giving the over-sensitive head of Dean’s dick a sweet little suck, a tiny flicker of the tongue that makes Dean hiss. 

“Learned from the best,” Sam replies, too cocky for his own damn good. His voice is the slightest bit ragged as he wipes his mouth off on the back of his hand. Dean’s dick twitches for it. Wouldn’t be long until he was ready for round two.

Dean’s fingers slip into the stretched out collar of Sam’s faded blue t-shirt, yanking Sam up like he doesn’t weigh a thing, smashing their mouths together and licking the bitter-hot taste of his own jizz out of his baby brother’s mouth. It tastes way too good over the lingering watermelon. Sweeter than summertime.


End file.
